


Zugswang

by Yoselin



Category: Love & Legends (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Lennox / MC - Freeform, Love and Legends, Psychology, Unhealthy Relationships, Voltage Amemix, Zugswang, voltage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-02-11 05:06:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12928101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yoselin/pseuds/Yoselin
Summary: “Zugzwang. It's a chess term. Describes a point in the chess game when a player realizes he'll inevitably be checkmated. He has to decide whether to resign, or to play through to the bitter end.” -Criminal Minds





	1. Prologue

By the time the clock chimes signaling the end of my shift, I feel spent. The last thing I had wanted to do with my life was waste it in tiny, cramped cubicles typing up reports and answering phone calls, yet here I am doing just that.   
Sighing at my poor career choice, I step out into the windy afternoon. The breeze ruffles my hair as I began to walk in the direction of my apartment when someone surprises me from behind. An arm is flung over my shoulders and I jump before realizing who it is.   
Sophie, my friend since grade school, grins at me.   
“There you are, Hannah! I’ve been waiting for you to get off work for half an hour now,” she gives me a playful scolding look.   
Immediately, in her presence, I begin to feel more at ease. The exhaustion from my long hours working dissipates and a smile works it’s way on to my face mirroring her own.   
“I had to finish up a report,” I answer back, fingers pressing to my temple in annoyance.   
Sophie wrinkles her nose and fishes her phone out of her pocket. Her screen is open to a movie theater site with a weird movie selected.   
“Well, I have the perfect solution for some relaxation. How would you feel about going to the movie theater with me?” She waves her phone around in excitement.   
I raise an eyebrow and quirk my lips up in amusement. “That depends on the movie. Knowing you, you’d want to drag me to some R rated fantasy thing with dragons and fairies.”  
Sophie makes a noise at the back of her throat that is somewhere between annoyance and laughter. She shows me the screen depicting a young actress standing in front of an actor wearing armor. It looks like another one of her cliche dramas.   
“What’s the premise this time?” I sigh as my fingers zip up my coat. Sophie grins conspiratorially and takes on an announcer’s voice.   
“The movie is called ‘Machiavellian Mirage’ and it is a total tearjerker. Our protagonist finds out she is the long lost heir of a royal family and is brought into a life of courtly intrigue. There, she meets a handsome stranger who attempts to help her navigate through her new life all the while making her fall in love with him. It’s a great movie and it is playing soon!” Her finger taps the showtime button.   
“That sounds so boring,” I complain. She glares at me.   
“Come On Hannah, think about it. Don’t you want to see a tragedy full of love, lies, and lust?” She shows me the screen again.   
“Tragedy?” I ask, my eyes narrowed slightly in annoyance.   
“Oh, terribly tragic, the ads say we’ll need tissues for this one. It isn’t your typical romcom,” Sophie baits.   
I sigh and glance at my phone screen. It’s nearly six now and I have nothing better to do.   
I shrug my shoulders and roll my eyes. “Fine, buy me a ticket.”  
Sophie squeals in excitement and her fingers begin tapping away at her phone as she books the tickets-  
Before she can finish, however, a sudden downpour of rain descends.   
My hands fly up to my hood to protect myself from the thunderstorm and Sophie lets out a startled shriek.   
“It wasn’t even cloudy a while ago,” she complains. Her phone slips back into her pocket and she shivers in her thin blouse, “you know what? Let’s go tomorrow!”   
“Yeah, I don’t want to travel in this rain,” I agree.   
We make a promise to meet at the downtown theater before going our separate ways.   
I watch Sophie disappear behind a building’s corner before making my way to my apartment complex.   
Before I can even get some three steps in, however, a clap of thunder sounds around me. My world is engulfed in bright light and I scream before I feel myself fall. 

When I open my eyes, I expect to get a face full of gravel, but instead I find myself at a wooded clearing. My hands dig into the fresh earth beneath me and I look up.   
Immediately, every muscle in my body freezes and shock overtakes me. I am no longer in Chicago, instead, I am in the middle of a wooded area staring at startled faces.   
Tens of people surround me, all kneeling as if in prayer. A single man stands above them on a wooded platform dressed in whites and blues holding a book in hand. His mouth opens in shock before the area descends into chaos.   
My hands are seized by some of the people on the ground, their grips are firm and tight.   
“The Queen!” A startled partitioner kneeling calls out, his voice is a venerating shout, “she has returned to us!”   
I try to pull my hands free as the rest of the churchgoers rise to their feet. Their voices rise in awe and worship. I am unable to disentangle myself from those that hold me before the man on the platform descends.  
His book is clutched to his chest and his face goes from shock to astonishment. He reaches me and drops to a reverent bow.  
His voice is a smooth velvet as he calls out, “my Queen! Our prayers were answered. You are alive.”


	2. 01

As the man with the book approaches me, the hands holding me release me. I rub at my sore arms and take a half step back before the stranger reaches me completely.   
“It seems our prayers have been answered! See your majesty? I told you I would bring you back. I told you, you could trust me. I was always your most loyal,” the stranger whispers. His hand goes for my cheek and I back away.  
The stranger pretends not to notice and brings his hands to clasp his book to his chest once more. He addresses the stunned crowd around me and his voice takes on the tone of an impassioned preacher.   
“Ladies and gentlemen, our benevolent Queen has answered our prayers! She has appeared to us, her loyal flock, and has defeated death itself!”  
A chorus of cheers and passionate shouts greet him. I flinch from the noise and try to shrink into my jacket. My mind is going a million miles a minute, and I feel disoriented.   
Moments ago I was in Chicago headed for my apartment, and now I’m in the middle of some creepy church in the woods.   
A hand on the small of my back makes me jump. The man from before pushes me lightly towards the stage. His mouth moves to my ear in whisper.   
“Perhaps you should address your true believers, my Queen? They have been loyally praying to you for three years. Your return will be better marked with one of your eloquent speeches,” he urges.   
As he moves me towards the platform steps, I move away from his grasp.   
“What’s going on?!”   
The scream that leaves me is louder than I meant. It tears out of my throat and hangs limply in the air.   
My voice sounds so panicked and confused that the man freezes. Gold eyes open in shock before he reaches for me again.   
“My Queen?” His voice is hesitant, startled, but I move away.   
I spin away from him, attempting to run, but the church goers are in my path. Like their leader, they have also frozen utterly at a loss. My panic seems to spur them on moments later, however, because they begin surging for the stage all at once. Hands reach out to touch me, steady me, but I back away.   
I back so far that I bump right into the stranger again. His arms immediately clutch my arms, nails digging into my jacket, and he holds me in place.   
“Your confusion is understandable, your Majesty, but please don’t let them hear. Their morale was enough of a pain before,” he hisses.  
I clamp my mouth shut as he moves away from me and into the front of the panicked churchgoers. His face schools into a somber and serious facade and his voice takes on that of a doctor announcing a diagnosis.   
“Quiet, please! Our Queen has returned to us from death. Her mind is understandably confused, and she requires rest. I am sure she will be better in no time. Remember, my flock, we have brought her back. Our prayers and faith have seen her return, and now they will see her restored to her throne. For now, let us be adjourned. I encourage you all to go and pray for our Queen’s speedy recovery, and spread the word amidst our rank of her return. I will attend to our Queen and will deliver her to her Generals. Now go!”  
His arms open and he bows his head. I watch in surprise as the panic subsided from the crowd and they bow in return. The people glance at me with more reverent and obsessive looks before dispersing.   
My arms wrap around myself in fear as the stranger turns on me. His face is unreadable as he approaches me.   
“Do you remember your ever loyal servant, your Majesty?” He appraises me with hints of suspicion and contemplation.   
“No, who are you?” I answer. Again, my voice comes out terrified and just a little ticked off.   
The stranger hums instead of answering and presses his fingers to his chin. “This is troubling. Maybe Magnus will know what to do? For now, your Majesty, I will take you back home. Perhaps your castle shall jog your memory, yes?”  
I open my mouth to protest, to tell this preaching stranger that there is no way in Hell I am going with him, but something hard hits me in the side of the head and my world turns black.


	3. 02

“-e hurt the Queen! Can he really be trusted with her safety if he has already injured her?!”   
“She looked startled, Alain, I merely put her to sleep to make it easier to bring her here. Would you not have done the same?”  
“Well, I really am looking forward to how this plays out. Lennox hit our Queen and knocked her out. I wonder, when the Witch Queen wakes up, will she tear your hands off as punishment or will she simply slit your throat?-“  
My head hurts as consciousness slowly seeps into me. When I open my eyes, I find myself in a lavishly decorated room.   
A hospital.   
A sigh of relief leaves me and I press my fingers to my eyes.   
Thank God. I must have been hit by lightning and brought to a hospital. The whole scene with Jonestown-part-2 was just some fever dream.   
Slowly, I sit up and hiss. My body aches and head pulses. I open my eyes and take in my hospital room.   
Immediately, my body tenses.   
If this is a hospital room, this is the fanciest one I’ve ever been in.   
This room looks like it was taken off a catalogue of a home renovation magazine. It’s draped in blue and white tones with expensive furniture and pieces. Everything seems like it’s some billionaire’s wet dream. Even the bed I lie in feels softer and more expensive than my memory foam bed in Chicago.   
I move to swing out of bed when the door opens. Four strangers dressed in bizarre medieval clothing enter. Definitely not doctors.   
I tense once more as the stranger from before files in after them.   
The first stranger to reach me, a tall woman with blonde hair, all but drops to her knees before the bed. Her eyes close in reverence and her head bows so low it practically touches the floor.   
“My Queen! I knew you would return,” she voices.   
Another stranger, a man with silver hair and armor, joins her. “As did I, My Queen. I never once doubted you would be back.”  
“Who are you?”   
It is the only question I can think to ask. By now, I realize that I am not in a hospital and whatever dream I am locked in is not going away-  
If it even is a dream.   
My head and body ache so much that it almost feels real.   
The woman rises to her feet and whirls on the stranger from before. She advances on him, hands igniting in blue flame-real flame, and grits her teeth.   
“You did this! You hit her and now she can’t remember!”  
The stranger backs away and steps closer towards another man. The third man looks like the eldest and has darker hair. He analyses me with piercing eyes and moves towards me.   
“Stand down, Helena. Lennox said she couldn’t remember a thing before he hit her. Her memory is not on him. Either returning did something to her, or she is just a stranger with a similar face.”  
The woman, apparently Helena, whirls on him next. “She is our Queen, Magnus. Look at her! No stranger can look so alike. I know she is the Queen. I feel it.”  
A bark of laughter sounds from another stranger. This one is leaning against the far wall and his expression mirrors amusement-  
And he has pointed ears. Actual pointed ears.   
“You are hardly an unbiased opinion. You and Alain practically drooled when Lennox brought her in.”  
Helena retorts something back but I don’t catch it. Instead, my hand is taken from the still kneeling man. I turn to him in shock as he takes my fingers in his.   
“My Queen, do you not remember me? I am Alain. Out of everyone here, I have known you the longest. Do you truly not recognize me?”  
His voice sounds desperate, heartbroken, but I don’t care. I tear my fingers from his grasp and stand.   
“I really don’t. Now can someone explain what the Hell is going on?”  
I make my voice as loud as I can. It cuts through the beginning of another argument with Helena and the pointed-eared stranger.   
The room is quiet for half a second before the eldest man clears his throat. When he speaks, however, he doesn’t address me. Instead, he addresses the room.   
“I suppose it cannot be helped then. For now, we will keep an eye on her and see if she isn’t some doppelgänger from the woods. With Alain, Lennox, and Helena vouching for her legitimacy, my hands are tied. One of you stay by her side at all times and scrutinize her. I want you to make sure that she is our Queen before I tell my soldiers their monarch has returned. Jinhai, come and scout the perimeter with me. Leave these three to attend to her.”  
The man spins away and leaves the room without looking at me again. He is followed by the pointed-ear guy, Jinhai, and the door closes behind them.   
I am left in a room with the other three. I bite the inside of my cheek in frustration.   
“Seriously, can someone please explain?” I voice my thoughts again and the three scramble for me.   
“At once, my Queen. I am Helena, your sorceress. You have been gone for three years but have now returned to us. Our time without you was difficult, but it is over,” Helena expresses. Her smile is beaming and just a tad bit obsessive.   
I shy away from her as Alain takes my other side. “She speaks the truth, my Queen. You do not remember now, but I am sure it will come to you sooner or later. For now, let us just rejoice that you are back.”  
“I still don’t get it,” I mumble.   
I back away from Alain and Helena and take a seat on the bed. My hands run through my hair and feel a bump on the side of my head. The place where the book had collided earlier. The pain feels too real to be just a dream.   
“Your memory will return quickly,” a third voice chimes out. The preacher from before, Lennox?, walks towards me. “A mind as powerful as yours can not be impaired for long. If Wolfson had anything to do with your disappearance, he will pay.”  
The other two murmur their agreement before Helena takes my hand. Her grip is soft, almost hesitant, as she pushes me lightly on to my back.   
I am laid down and the expensive quilt is draped over me.   
“Rest, your Majesty, and Alain and I will watch over you. Lennox’s foolish actions have given you a nasty headache. Fear not, he will not come near you again.”   
Her glare is pointed at Lennox who meets it with his own. He is cornered by Alain’s glare as well, however, and he makes himself small.   
“This is all some weird dream,” I murmur.   
My hand presses to my head in pain as I begin to feel sleepy again.   
Before another word can be said, I am falling back into sleep.   
And I hope that this time, I will wake up in my apartment in Chicago.


	4. 03

Unfortunately, I do not wake up in Chicago.  
The next morning, I awake in the same blue bedroom from the night before. My headache is completely gone and my muscles feel slightly less sore. I stretch my arms above my head before climbing out of bed.  
As I finger comb my hair, I realize that someone has dressed me from before. My T-shirt and jeans have been replaced by a simple white sleeping gown that doesn’t leave much to the imagination.  
I bristle and immediately head to the dresser while my cheeks burn.  
Someone dressed me while I was out. Someone saw me naked without my consent.  
The thought violates me and makes my cheeks even redder. I at least hope it was Helena or some other female and not one of the men from before.  
Pulling open the dresser, I have to bite back a groan.  
The entire wardrobe in the room consists of dresses in various shades of blue and white that look even more revealing than the last. Whoever these belong to must have a high self esteem.  
It takes me more than I would care to admit to find something shoved at the very bottom of the pile that isn’t some skimpy Halloween costume wannabe.  
The clothes I find are a plain shirt and pants in various tan and brown shades. Mercifully, and rather oddly, they fit me perfectly to the point where I wonder how they seem to be tailored to me.  
Sighing, I decide just to chalk it up to dream logic and head out the door. 

Unlike last night-or whenever I was last awake-the halls seem to be empty. There’s no sign of Helena or Alain or anyone else nearby. It takes me several wrong turns and dead ends to finally find someone.  
A servant who turns white when they see me mumbles out half directions to some place before scurrying away like a startled animal. I try to ignore how odd that is before following their instructions through the labyrinth that is the building.  
Eventually, I make it to some sort of dining room. From outside, the smell of food wafts through the air and my stomach makes a dying whale noise.  
I blush for the second time again before pushing the heavy door open.  
Immediately, chatter stops. The room turns dead silent upon my entrance. I hesitate for just a second before continuing towards the people from earlier.  
“Morning,” I mumble out.  
My voice seems to jolt something into action because Helena and Alain jump to their feet. Alain haphazardly lunges for a chair next to him and pushes it out for me. His face schools into another half-obsessed half-creepy smile.  
“Good morning, My Queen, I trust you slept well?” He pushes my chair in as I sit.  
“Like a log,” I answer back.  
My hands fold into my lap nervously as I take in the room around me.  
The five from before surround me on a large table. There’s several chairs in between them as if the thought of sitting close to one another disgusts them. Alain and Helena take the left side of the table on opposite ends while Lennox sits near the center four chairs away from Helena. Jinhai and Magnus take the right sitting opposite of one another.  
Each of them stares at me as if I were something dangerous. Alain and Helena have the same looks of blind devotion on their faces, Lennox stares at me as if I were a marathon of his favorite tv show on tv, Jinhai gives me half interested looks over his plate, and Magnus stares at me with something cold in his eyes. His stare is the most suspicious and appraising.  
I bristle and clench my hands underneath the table. Something I’ve always hated was to be stared by men like a specimen. Schooling my face into a glare, I meet his gaze evenly. A look of shock crosses his face and he looks down at his drink.  
Feeling satisfied, I turn my attention back to the table as someone deposits something in front of me.  
Helena sets a plate of eggs and bacon. I stare at my favorite dish in confusement before she gives me an adoring smile.  
“The kitchen was instructed to make your favorite meals once more. We figured you would like something nice to eat after being hit in the head by a certain disloyal and pathetic General,” she explains. At the end of her sentence, she throws a fierce glare at Lennox.  
The General meets her glare evenly before rising to his feet and schooling his features back into his best attempt at a charming smile.  
Remembering that he was the one that knocked me out, I feel my body go into defensive mode as he approaches me.  
“I apologize once more, My Queen, for my rash actions that night. You were in a state of shock and I figured rest was what you would need. My actions were rather unplanned, but at least you were able to sleep after your ordeal with Wolfson. May I give you your favorite?” He extends a glass of something white and alcoholic at me.  
I stare at it with contempt, not really inclined to take something from Jim Jones’ reincarnation, before Helena swipes the drink from his hand.  
“I would not accept offerings from someone beneath you, your Majesty. Who knows what Lennox could have done to it?” She dumps out the drink into an empty glass nearby and discards the glass.  
“Beneath her? You’re one to talk, Witch. You and Alain spent so much time beneath her that-“  
Lennox begins to fire back at Helena before I put an end to it. My headache from before is starting to return and the last thing I want to hear is two people arguing.  
“Enough, both of you,” I growl out. My voice sounds more cutting than I had expected and the hall turns dead silent.  
It seems that my voice has shocked everyone. Alain, previously openly gawking at me, turns away from me as if frightened. Helena and Lennox take a half step back, their rivalry temporarily forgotten, and the other two suddenly become more interested in their plate.  
Feeling awkward and a little embarrassed, I clear my throat and stab my fork into a piece of egg.  
“I don’t like arguing during a meal. Sit down and pretend to be civilized for a minute,” I mutter our. The order reverberates through the room and the two obey.  
“Apologies, My Queen,” Lennox bows his head as he retakes his seat. Helena echoes him and pretends not to notice his existence as she takes a languid sip of her water glass.  
The meal is quiet for a second before someone clears their throat.  
Magnus.  
He sets his empty wine glass down in front of him and leans forward in his seat. His eyes are still distrusting as he appraises me, but he seems to be forcing it down.  
“Your Majesty, may we talk about your return now that you are rested and fed? Your return has sent rumors throughout your lands that must be addressed. Your troops, watched by me in your absence, grow restless at the prospect of having their Queen back. I believe we must make a public appearance soon. To test morale and loyalty,” he says.  
There is a pause in his words for a few moments. I realize that he is expecting an answer but I am still confused. I’ve been asking since yesterday about what is happening, and why they continue calling me a Queen, but no one has provided me with an answer.  
I open my mouth to ask once more before stopping myself. Magnus and Jinhai seem to be sizing me up. Out of the five in the room, they seem the most suspicious. Something tells me that letting them know their doubts are true is not the best idea.  
Despite how much I want to know what is going on, I realize this isn’t the time. If I let Sherlock Holmes and Watson think there is something wrong, it can only come back to bite me.  
So, I school my features into my best Queenly look and wave my hand as if disinterested.  
“Not now. I still need my rest and time to be my old self. Wait for further instructions,” I voice out. My voice sounds confident and strong.  
Thank you theater major, I knew you weren’t a total waste of money.  
Magnus opens his mouth to protest, eyes hardening in frustration, before Alain glares at him.  
“Your Queen has issued an order, Magnus. Stand down and follow it. Her Majesty is still recovering from bringing brought back and needs time to gather her bearings. In the mean time, tell the troops that their Queen has returned and they will see her when she deems fit. Now, I propose we begin gathering intel on Wolfson and his army before making hasty choices. Retaliation is in order for their involvement in Her Majesty’s disappearance. Is that alright with you, My Queen?”  
I start in my seat and make a half noise of approval at the back of my throat. That seems to be enough for Alain because he settles back into his chair looking content.  
Magnus growls something under his breath about him being in charge and not Alain but shuts up.  
Good. Now if only he and pointy-ears would stop scrutinizing my every movement.  
“My Queen,” a familiar voice sounds out. I turn to look at Lennox who is done with his timeout. “While you rest and recover, why don’t we begin planning what to tell your followers? Magnus’ troops may need to wait, but your believers have already seen you. I don’t think there is anything wrong with you helping me come up with a statement to them-“  
“The last thing she needs is to spend time with the one who raised a hand to her. If anything, I should cut it off right now,” Alain interrupts him mid-proposition and reaches for his sword.  
“I’d like to see you try,” Lennox grits out.  
Jinhai makes an amused sound at the back of his throat and leans towards Magnus. “Finally. Something amusing this morning. I bet you a drink Lennox walks away with a black eye.”  
Magnus, to my surprise, doesn’t admonish him. Instead, he raises an eyebrow in utter interest and watches the scene. “I wager he won’t even live through it.”  
The two seem content to watch this play out but I don’t. Feeling like I’m back in my babysitting job from high school I stand.  
“Enough! What did I say about fighting?!”  
My voice once more cuts trough the room and it gets quiet. Alain lowers whatever his double blades thing is and mumbles an apology. Lennox offers none this time and instead stands to walk out.  
“My offer still stands, My Queen. Perhaps helping me write a statement will jog your memory? Come with me and we shall see you restored to your magnificence.”  
Helena and Alain stand before I can make a choice.  
“Nonsense, Your Majesty. Lennox has already proven himself to be a traitor by harming you. Come with Alain and I and we can look through the library for something to aid in your recovery,” Helena proposes.  
I wait for another option. One where someone proposes to send me back home or leave me in peace until I can puzzle things out but none come. Magnus regards me with his ever present suspicion and Jinhai looks bored with the whole ordeal.  
Great. So my two options are between Romeo and Juliet and Charles Manson.  
I stand and take my time pushing in my chair as I think.  
On one hand, Helena and Alain are the most hospitable of the Death Eaters, but on the other hand, their creepy stares scream danger. I have a feeling that, if given the option, they’d get me in their bed. While being fought over by an older woman and a handsome guy has been a fantasy of mine for a long time, i think I’m already living enough fantasy in this revenge of Dungeons and Dragons dream.  
So it looks like my choice is made.  
Lennox makes my skin crawl, everything about him reeks creepy and dangerous, plus my headache is a constant reminder of just how spot on that is, but at least he isn’t giving me bedroom eyes.  
Winner, winner.  
I pretend to look totally confident and not off put and raise my chin.  
“Let’s work on that statement,” I tell him.  
Lennox grins triumphantly at Alain and Helena who begin to argue, but my mind is already made. I begin to follow him out of the dinning room as the others begin to clear out.  
Once I’m outside, I start to feel uncertain.  
Hanging out with Marshall Applewhite is the last thing I wanted, but maybe I’ll be fine if I don’t drink the kool-aid.


	5. 04

After what feels like an eternity of brisk walking through jumbled corridors and doorways, Lennox finally leads me inside a bedroom locked by an ornate door. He fishes a key out of his pocket and unlocks it before beckoning me inside. I try to hide my displeasure when he locks the door behind us.   
The room he has led me to is surprising to say the least. It is not as large as the one I had woken up in, yet it still takes my breath away all the same.   
The room is a bedroom that looks like it stepped out of a billionaire’s dream. Expensive furniture and decorations are plain to see. Everything looks like it was picked out by someone with very deep pockets-  
And no eye for aesthetics.   
I make a face as I trace my fingers over a mahogany desk with beautiful carvings on its surface. The desk is lovely, but it has been shoved to a side of the room haphazardly. It clashes with the dark blue sheets of the bedroom, a pure silk I resist the urge to touch, and it looks out of sorts with the ornate mirror to the side.   
Whoever modeled this room picked things out based off of their price tag and not their usefulness.   
“Is this your bedroom?” I ask as I run my fingers over a bookshelf now. Leather bounds books fill it to the brim and dust rains down. I scrunch up my nose and resist the urge to sneeze. Were the servants not allowed here?  
Lennox misses my discomfort as he smiles, a smile that can freeze over a desert, and nods.   
“It is, your Majesty. Although it does not compare with your own,” he tilts his head down in false modesty.   
“Can you stop calling me, your Majesty? It sounds odd,” I complain. The words are out of my mouth before I can stop myself. I bite my cheek in mild panic when I see Lennox jolt.   
His features take on a look of suspicion and doubt before smoothing over into another bizarre smile. He pulls out a few pieces of parchment and a quill and sets them down on the desk.   
“What would you have me call you then? Your old name or another one?”   
I blanche and think.   
I meant to hide the fact that I am not who they think, but I’ve already given myself away. There is no right answer to his question. I can’t remember “my” old name, he knows it, and I can’t give my new one without confirming his doubts.   
Crap. I’m between a rock and a hard place.   
I take my time sitting down on a chair in front of his desk. It’s as expensive as everything else, yet very uncomfortable.   
Well, if I’ve already given myself away...  
“How about Hannah?” I shrug and try to sound nonchalant.   
It doesn’t work.   
That same suspicion from before returns tenfold and Lennox regards me coldly.   
“Hannah isn’t the name you went by before, my Queen. What brought this on?” His fingers smooth out the parchment before him but his eyes take in every little detail about me. I feel like I’m under a Petri dish for a second before scowling.   
“Do you question your Queen?” I make my voice commanding, powerful, and it seems to work.   
Lennox looks away in a hurry, more startled than scared, before shaking his head. He makes a sound of denial and offers me another smile as if to pacify me.   
It almost works, this smile isn’t as creepy as the ones before, but i still catch a hint of something in his gaze.   
He is beginning to fully understand the extent of my “amnesia”. I have no doubt that he is probably going to be on guard from now on when he is near me. Every little move I make will now be scrutinized and reported to the others.   
Great.   
“What statement do you want me to make?” I try to change the subject in order to hide how nervous I suddenly am. It works.   
Lennox sits up and hands me the quill. His fingers brush past mine and I flinch. They’re freezing.   
What is that saying? ‘Cold hands, warm heart’? Yeah, I don’t think it applies in this case.   
“A simple statement of your return, your Ma-Hannah. Your followers need something to calm them down after your...outburst.”  
I wince at the memory of my arrival here. It’s fuzzy and unclear, but I can remember the panic that had ensured when I had voiced my shock.   
Realizing that Lennox is waiting for me, I force myself to think.   
Come on Hannah, you have a theater major. Make some shit up.   
“ ‘I have returned. Victory will be ours’?” I voice out loud.   
Lennox thinks for a moment before nodding. I catch another glint of doubt in his eyes.   
“It’s shorter than your other messages, but I suppose it will do. I can elaborate more if you wish?” He hands me a bottle of something.   
Ink.   
I get that he wants me to write the statement with the quill in my hand, but how the heck do you use a quill? Sophie had a kit when we were in high school, but I always made fun of her for it and never tried to use it.   
It can’t be as simple as dipping it in ink, right? Something tells me it is but I don’t want to find out.   
I panic slightly before getting an idea.   
I all but throw it at Lennox who catches it in surprise. My features school into displeasure and I tilt my head arrogantly.   
“Make yourself useful,” I order.   
There’s a flash of shock on his face before he nods and begins to jot my words down. His handwriting is loopy, hard to read, but it gets the message across.   
“I’m surprised you don’t want it in your own handwriting, Hannah. Something so important should look as genuine as possible, lest dissenters try to refute it,” he muses.   
I square my jaw and clench my fingers around the armrest of the chair.   
Oh, he is on to me. He and Thing One and Two outside are very doubtful of who I am. I need to tread lightly and become a better liar.   
What’s that thing people say? The best lie has truth sprinkled in? Maybe this applies in dreams too.   
I turn my head away from him as if bored.   
“You are aware that my memory isn’t the best at the moment?” I try to sound, frustrated at this fact as if it’s a bitter inconvenience.   
“I am,” Lennox narrows his eyes.   
“Then you are also aware that there are those that would seek to take advantage of it? A simple written statement would do little to sway the masses. If you truly want to calm your church, I will need to deliver the message in person. If they see me, there will be no doubt as to my return and ability. My memory will not be doubted. And neither will my orders.”  
I add that last part in a little more forcefully then necessary. Not even sure why, maybe because being a bossy bitch seems to earn less quizzical stares from the others, but it does the job.   
A smile spreads across Lennox’s face again. This one is different from his creepy too-much-teeth one. It looks more professional and scheming. Not exactly a nice look on him, all things considered.   
“Of course, my Queen. Your brilliance is legendary as always. Your followers will be pleased if you deliver the message in person rather than through a letter. I am sorry to doubt you.”  
I stand from my chair, ready to leave, but stop myself. I don’t know where to go or what to do. This act I’m putting on is difficult to maintain, and it would probably be best if I gather all the information possible.   
I don’t know what-or who-I’m even impersonating other than the fact that she must have been pretty cruel all things considered. There has to be a reason the others are less tense when I’m coming down on them.   
I turn back to Lennox who is adding more to the parchment. He seems to have a way with words as he jots down an entire speech from the small sentence I gave him. He’s like a creepy version of Shakespeare.   
I clear my throat and his hand stills. His eyes meet mine again and I struggle with how to phrase this.   
“My memory is impaired. It’s frustrating,” I clench my jaw.   
“The false Lord’s doing, no doubt. Fear not, Hannah, Wolfson will pay for what he has done. He and his band of misfits must have done something to weaken you, but you are powerful. Your memory will return soon,” he soothes. He sounds impassioned, slightly obsessive when speaking, and his eyes take on a far away look. He must be remembering whatever happened before I arrived.   
Good.   
“For the moment I don’t remember much. Care to enlighten me as to who did this to me?”   
I almost back away from the question, worried it’ll tip off David Koresh about the fact that I am not whoever they’ve mistaken me for, but he doesn’t look suspicious. My question has made him angry at whoever attacked “me”.   
“Lord Wolfson, Your Majesty. He is a false Lord from the human domain that sought to kill you to stop your claim on the throne. I believe, as well as the others, that he had something to do with your memory. Three years ago, Wolfson killed you in battle-or so we thought. He and his men must have done something to impair your memory instead,” Lennox answers.   
I catalog that bit of information away, even though it doesn’t make sense, but press on.   
“The war...who was I exactly? My memory is still unclear.”  
This question prompts a brief silence, a silence where I see him debate as to what to answer, before he stands. His mood changes into something emboldened and impassioned. Like Helena and Alain, Lennox holds whoever he has mistaken me for as something larger than life. But, unlike them, there isn’t romantic obsession in his gaze. There is something different, more raw and carnal...and wrong.   
I shiver involuntarily and take a step back as he advances on me.   
“You, my Queen, were a goddess brought to life. You began as a simple noble girl who had her heart broken by a petty King. After you got rid of him and his treacherous circle, you assumed your rightful role as Witch Queen. The other Lords in the world tried to stop you, envious of your power, but you reigned true. You led a war that put down dissenters and any who would challenge you. We were a battle away from victory when Reiner Wolfson killed you. You were dead for three years, but now you have returned. You will reign victorious again, and Reiner Wolfson will lose his head like his brother and father before him.”  
His words register hollow in my mind. I feel my body grow cold and my nails dig into my palms as I try to process it.   
It doesn’t make sense, the words get jumbled up in my mind, and I shiver again. Whoever I was, or whoever they think I was, isn’t right.  
War, beheading, it doesn’t make sense. I need to sit down for a second.   
Too late I realize that Lennox is regarding me with shock. I must be doing a terrible job at looking nonchalant.   
Focus, Hannah.   
I scold myself and force my emotions down. If I am to play the role of who he thinks I am, some terrible tyrant who killed people in war, I can’t panic and let him know he’s wrong.   
Because if his Queen was that bad, what does that make him? And what will he do to me if he finds out he is wrong about my identity?  
“Who were you to me then?”   
The question leaves me before I can stop it. Damn it, I am really asking to be caught.   
I need to focus and set aside my emotions long enough to leave his room. Lennox already is starting to doubt me, like Sherlock and Watson outside, so I need to appear as cold as the Queen from before. Otherwise, hitting me with a book won’t be the worst thing that happens to me.   
“I am your most loyal, my Queen. I oversee your church and follow your every command. Prior to your death, I was your confidant. As your memory is eluding you now, I wish for you to know that you can rely on me once more.”  
He offers me his hand. An alliance of some sort.   
I hesitate before forcing myself to move. My hand takes his freezing one and I force a neutral expression on my face.   
I am not comfortable with working with Jim Jones any more than necessary, his gaze on me now sends shivers down my spine, but he has to be valuable. If he was truly once a confidant to the Queen, then maybe he will be a useful ally in whatever nightmare this is. At least until I wake up in my hospital bed.   
Thus, despite the fact that touching him makes my skin crawl, I nod at him and accept his aid. He grins and begins to lead me out of his room, a hand at the small of my back.   
I force my face to be devoid of expression as I let him lead me away. Making an alliance with him will be beneficial in the long run, I’ll need someone to get answers from, someone who will help me maintain my charade. I tell myself that accepting his aid is the best course of action.   
And I would actually believe this reasoning if only it didn’t feel like I had just made a deal with the devil.


	6. 05

I am sorely disappointed when Lennox leads me outside the palace and into a courtyard where the other Generals reside. I had expected to be left alone, someplace I could sort out the thousands of thoughts buzzing through my head, but am instead thrust back on to the stage.  
Alain, Helena, Jinhai, and Magnus are in the full swing of sparring when we arrive. They each wear armor, or a variant of it, and hold weapons at their sides. They stop when they see us approaching, and I don’t miss the looks of distaste they display when they see that Lennox has his hand on my back.  
Lennox, for his part, drops his arm and takes a step towards his companions. His hands withdraw blades from the inside of his coat. Beautifully furnished knives with bejeweled handles glint ominously in the light as he spins them around his fingers expertly.  
I take a half step back, surprised for a second, and Lennox offers me another one of his cold grins.  
“Ha-My Queen,” he almost calls me by my name then stops, “perhaps seeing our old training sessions would help? You used to enjoy them vastly before your passing.”  
He meets my eyes, something shining there, a message. I catch it and nod. If this Queen person liked seeing them train, then I have to pretend to.  
“Fine,” I shrug my shoulders and try to seem nonchalant.  
It must work because the others seem convinced by it. They take their stances again and Lennox joins the fray.  
Magnus grins at me, a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and hefts his axe in hand. When he speaks, his words are aimed at the others.  
“As this will be the first match our Queen shall witness since her return, let us show her that her Generals have been hard at work. We never once gave up hope that she would return, and we have not allowed our isolation to dull our senses,” he calls out.  
His voice echoes against the courtyard. The others voice their agreements, and then it begins.  
The clang of steel on steel rings heavily in the courtyard. I watch as weapons collide with armor, spells-actual fucking magic-are flung with near surgical precision, and snakes spring from the earth. I almost shriek when a huge one slithers past me and joins the fight but manage to keep my mouth shut.  
The entire training session can hardly be called a training session. It doesn’t seem like any of the Generals are holding back. Helena’s spells send Alain flying, Lennox’s knives knick Jinhai’s arm, and Magnus slices a snake in half before dodging a blow from Helena’s blades. There’s no order to this fighting, no definitive target, they attack where they can and don’t hesitate to inflict actual injury.  
I shiver as I hear Helena cry out in shock. A snake nearly bites her ankle before a spell sends it soaring back towards Jinhai.  
The entire match is so brutal that I have to bite painfully against my cheek to keep my expression impassive. I have never liked action movies, and seeing an actual fight in person doesn’t appeal to me.  
I lose track of how long it lasts, at some point, I just tune out. My mind zeroes in on Lennox, fighting effortlessly with knives and daggers tucked into his clothes, and I let my mind drift to him.  
He’s not the best fighter, in fact he takes heavy blows from Magnus and Helena, but he holds his own well. His aim is always true, the knives finding their intended targets each time, to the point where his blades could have done damage to the others if not for their armor.  
I am almost entranced as I watch him. He doesn’t move as gracefully as Alain and Helena when he fights, nor does he display impossible power like Magnus, or perform weird movements like Jinhai, yet his fighting technique still stuns me. It’s agile, quick, and breathtaking.  
For a second, I think he may beat the others, until Alain sneaks up behind him. Lennox, too busy hissing something at Helena, doesn’t see the sword until it’s too late.  
The blade bites into his neck, and he vaults away from it. A knife flies towards Alain who dodges it, and Lennox is moved back.  
He stumbles towards Magnus, who has also advanced on him in secret, and is forced down. A heavy boot kicks at him until he sprawls on the floor and his daggers skid away from grasp. One knocks against my boot and I pick it up before turning my attention back to the grisly scene.  
They’ve all advanced on Lennox.  
Alain and Jinhai hold him down while Helena conjures up balls of blue flame in her palms. Magnus raises his axe, almost as if to decapitate him, and Lennox cries out in anger and shock.  
Something about that cry triggers something.  
A stab of incredible pain slams into my mind and I stagger back. My hands drop his knife and I press them against my skull.  
A flash of something passes through my mind. And-  
_I am no longer in a courtyard._  
_Instead, I stand before a throne room, one I don’t recognize, and watch as Magnus and Alain haul Lennox inside. He wears dark, modest clothing, nothing like the teal finery he always dons now and he looks terrified._  
_He screams as they drag him towards me, a scream utterly horrified and panicked, and I see myself nod at Alain._  
_Alain lifts his sword, as if to execute him-_  
_And the image ends._  
I stagger back, headache still pounding, and nearly get a face full of dirt.  
There are cries of shock as I fall. My hands catch myself in time and I bite my lip until I taste metal.  
The headache is getting so much worse, and I swallow down a pained scream.  
Suddenly, hands lift me up, Lennox, and I am guided to a nearby chair.  
“My Queen!” Helena’s hands move to my face. She presses a palm to my forehead and the pain recedes to a dull ache with a flash of blue light from her hand.  
I press my fingers against my temple and grit my teeth.  
I saw something. It had felt so real, so vivid, that I was sure I couldn’t have imagined it.  
I had seen a throne room in avid detail, had seen Lennox almost executed, and had heard the real, primal, fear in his scream.  
That vision had been too detailed to be some imaginary hallucination. My imagination isn’t that impressive.  
A hand is placed on my shoulder and I jolt.  
The Generals crowd around me, their sparring session forgotten, and they speak all at once. Alain, Helena, and Lennox look genuinely worried, Jinhai looks faintly amused, and Magnus regards me wearily.  
Their babble sends another round of prickling pain, and I stand up suddenly. I need to get away from this and lay down. I turn to leave and glare at each of them with my best evil queen impression yet.  
“I’m fine, I just need rest. Lennox, take me to my room,” I order. Strangely, my voice sounds even, and no one protests.  
“At once,” Lennox replies.  
He takes my wrist again and begins to lead me away. I don’t miss the fact that he’s limping as he does so.  
As we walk and leave the startled others behind, I grit my teeth and watch him from the corner of my eye.  
That image of him almost decapitated by Alain had looked too real to be a hallucination-  
So what had it been? A memory?  
The thought sends shivers down my spine and I force it down.  
There is no way that was a memory. A memory implies that I had lived it, and I know I hadn’t. I was not whoever they thought I was, and there was no reason to have false memories.-  
Yet, it had felt so real.  
So, if it wasn’t a memory, then what the hell had I just seen?


	7. 06

By the time we reach my room, my headache has subsided. Whatever Helena had done back at the courtyard had eased the pain a lot.   
Once the ache is gone, I am left with just thousands of questions buzzing around my mind. Great, as if I needed another reason to feel like I’m losing it.   
Lennox follows me into the bedroom and walks me over to the bed. I take a seat and watch as he bows stiffly at me. When he bends down, a drop of blood lands on his boot.   
He’s injured from the struggle.   
“Are you alright?” The question leaves my lips effortlessly. It surprises me but not more than Lennox himself.   
He stares at me in shock before schooling his features into a neutral expression. “Nothing I would not handle for you, my Queen.”  
“Hannah,” I correct him.   
He smiles and tilts his head. “Apologies, Hannah. Now, please take your rest, your Majesty. I will return to your Generals and soothe their worries. Please, take your rest and call on me if you need anything.”  
He turns to leave, yet I, surprisingly, don’t want him to just yet.   
These questions brought on by the vision refuse to leave. I need someone to talk to me about them and clear some of the confusion I have buzzing around my skull. Lennox became an ally for this reason alone. If anyone can help sort my mind out, it’s him.   
He’s creepy, sure, but he’s been honest so far, and he was the old Queen’s favorite. He has to have answers for me.   
So, before he can leave, my fingers close around his wrist.   
He starts in shock and almost pulls his wrist free before he sees me. In an instant, his face lights up into something almost resembling a smile. “Do you need something, Hannah?”  
I open my mouth, not sure what question to lead into, and hesitate for a second.   
What I want to ask him is if he can make sense of that vision I had seen earlier, but that would be a weird conversation. It’s not like I can just blurt out, “hey Lennox, did Alain ever try to kill you?”   
Thus, instead, I voice another question that I’ve been asking myself lately.   
“How did you and I meet?” I inquire. I release his wrist and move to make room for him on the bed.   
Lennox raises an eyebrow, clearly taken aback, but takes a seat next to me all the same.   
“You do not remember our first meeting, Hannah?” He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes.   
Something about my question has him on edge. Whether it’s painful that an old friend had forgotten him or pleasing, I can’t tell. Either way, his reaction makes me feel a little off put.   
Taking my silence as confirmation, Lennox shrugs his shoulders. His hands press to his lap in a diamond formation and he looks away.   
“You were a lady at court vying for the old King’s attention. We first met at a ball the old King hosted to welcome his suitors to the palace. I was here as a preacher of the Religions of Old as a representative for the council. We were introduced by other counsel members and we became friends,” he answers.   
I raise an eyebrow. A preacher?   
“You were a preacher?”   
“I am a preacher now, Hannah. This is why you entrusted me with your church-my experience. You told me I was the only one you could trust to do a good job. Out of your five Generals, I have always been the one you’ve preferred.”  
Lennox leans towards me then, smile looking almost obsessive, and I lean back.   
He has the same look Alain and Helena have when they see me except his looks...darker. While the other two seemed completely enamored by me, Lennox almost looks desperate. There’s something in his gaze that makes me feel like I swallowed some ice.   
I stand up not being able to sit next to him any longer. My hands clap behind my back where I don’t run the risk of being touched.   
Maybe it was a mistake to invite him here. Regardless, however, I dug this grave so might as well lie in it. As long as I have him here, I can get some information out of him even though he creeps me out.   
“Did I ask you to head my religion?” I wonder.   
It sounds weird to call it ‘my’ religion, weird that I have a cult outside praising my name, but it’s the truth. This dream is crazier than the one where a donut chased me.   
Lennox’s smile goes away and is replaced by something more guarded. I don’t miss this shift in his expression.   
“You made a compelling argument, one I could not refuse,” he answers.   
His voice sounds controlled, almost devoid of expression, and he tenses just slightly.   
Well, damn, this question really got under his skin. Whatever it is, he doesn’t want to talk about it.   
I archive this in my head and keep pressing on. Already, Lennox is starting to grow tired of my interrogation. If there’s another question I want answered, I’ll have to ask it quickly.   
“What were you to me? Asides from my confidant.”  
There’s another shift in his expression and that obsessed look returns. He stands and moves towards me. I tense but he seems not to notice. His hand reaches for me and the smile that lights up on his face is just a little unhinged.   
I back away from him and he gets the message. My nails dig into my fists and my eyes narrow. I try to warn him with a glare to keep his distance.   
It works. Although I can sense his disappointment in not being allowed to touch me, the smile remains on his face.   
“You and I were very close, Hannah,” he presses a hand to his chest.   
“Close?” I voice out.   
I think I know where this is going and I’m not sure I’ll like it. My body tenses up and I take another half step back.   
Lennox grins now, teeth showing, and his expression takes on something more carnal, lustful.   
“I was your favorite General. You often called on me when you were lonely and needed someone to talk to,” he appraises me again. Something in his gaze makes me feel queasy.   
By the way he’s looking at me, taking in every detail about me, I get the feeling that ‘talking’ wasn’t all he did with the old Queen.   
Feeling just slightly nauseous, I turn away from him.   
Focus, Hannah, you’re losing your composure. Lennox is an ally, but something tells me he’ll easily turn on you if he knows you’re not who he thinks.   
I force my face to remain impassive, neutral, and let my hands ease from the fists they were.   
“And how often did you come to ‘talk’ to me?”   
I ask this simply because I need to keep talking. Despite how unnerving this conversation is, the millions of other questions bouncing around my mind are much worse. His companionship, although unnerving and now uncomfortable, keeps my mind away from anything else. Plus, I’d rather suffer at his side then suffer at anyone else’s. At least Lennox knows when to keep his mouth shut.   
Lennox takes my question in stride and the corner of his lip curls up. I can’t tell whether it’s with amusement at my uncomfortableness or lust. Either way, I’m starting to wish I had just asked him to leave earlier.   
“You called on me every night, Hannah, and I helped ease your mind. I was your closest confidant and your most loyal,” he presses his hand to his heart and bows his head again in mock modesty.   
I bite my cheek hard enough that it hurts and kick myself for having have asked him to stay. The way he’s appraising me now, it’s making me uncomfortable. As if Alain and Helena weren’t bad enough on their own...  
Calling upon my years in theater, I press my hand to my mouth and yawn. The sound comes out genuine and Lennox changes his stance. His face goes blank once more and he bows.   
“You’re tiring, my lady? If you wish, I shall take my leave.”  
“I will see you in the morning,” I answer back.   
I make my way back to the bed and begin to undo the sheets. Lennox stares at me for a few more moments before turning away.   
I wait until the door has closed behind him before plopping down onto the mattress. My hands press to my face and I shudder.   
Lennox may not be as bad as the other Generals, but he’s still not easy to be around with. Nevertheless, I brought this on myself by making a deal with him. I knew what I was getting myself into by entering a pact with Jim Jones and now I’ll have to endure it-  
At least until I wake up from this weird dream in my memory foam bed in Chicago.


End file.
